Kashmir
by tornbloom
Summary: "[...]But that's not why I had to stay away from Imperial soldiers. They seemed to have gotten it in their head that I was a wanted murderer. Yes, murderer. A thousand septim bounty rested on my head. And the best part? I never killed anyone." Eventual Dark Brotherhood involvement and romance.


The brisk winds chilled my skin, open to the cool air. My hair, slightly damp, clumped together in twisted auburn locks, barely brushing my shoulders.

I breathed shakily into my gloved hands, as if it would help. As my breath escaped into the open air, a few wispy clouds dispersed in the wind.

It was early morning, and if you were in Eastmarch, it was a freezing early morning.

Regardless of the cold, I felt my spirits lift as the sun crawled above the mountain-crowded horizon. Finally, sweet respite from the cold of the lightless night. I couldn't have risked even a torch last night; an Imperial patrol was stationed just by my makeshift camp.

I gave my one companion a soft pat on the shoulder before climbing to my feet. Milie, my ice wolf furry-faced friend, got to her paws as well, giving her pelt a quick shake, dispelling clusters of frost from her fur. Her size might have intimidated, maybe even scared anyone. Anyone but me. I scratched her furry chin, and her tail came alive with happiness. She seemed unable to contain her excitement for travel.

"Milie! Calm down, the Empire can smell your excitement from Solitude!" I said, laughing. This only seemed to liven her even more.

It was thanks to this sweet wolf that I had survived last night at all. It's difficult to endure the fatal cold of Skyrim by yourself, without another source of warmth... Unless you were a mage, but even I knew I was no good with magic. I dusted the snow off my fur clothes, adjusting myself before we would get back on the road.

The destination was Windhelm, the Stormcloak capital. I planned on joining their ranks, becoming a soldier for Skyrim. For freedom.

But that's not why I had to stay away from Imperial soldiers. _They _seemed to have gotten it in their head that I was a wanted murderer. Yes, murderer. A thousand septim bounty rested on my head. And the best part? I never killed anyone.

I sighed, another flurry of fog shooting from my lips.

I readjusted my rucksack on my shoulders, and checked that my steel dagger was in it's place, for quick drawing.

"Are you ready?" I asked Milie with a smile, knowing she was more than ready to get going. Without another word, I stepped through the thick snow, each tedious step leading my thoughts a little further from reality. I watched my surroundings; the giggling on the creek, the chirping of the forest songbirds, the crunch of the icy snow... Gradually, my mind wandered to my family, back in Cyrodiil. As my feet led me along the banks of the Black River, I thought of whether or not my brother had become a blacksmith yet, like my father. I wondered if my sister had finally learned how to cook, or if she was still stuck to her boyish ways. I wondered if my mother was still lamenting my father's abrupt death, or my leaving. I wondered if any of them missed me.

I could never have explained my desire to leave to them. They would never have accepted it, no matter what my reason. I had no choice but to disappear...

As I often did, I wondered if I should send word that I was okay. A letter, a gift... anything.

And, as I often did, I told myself to wait. Wait until Windhelm. Wait until you're safe. Just wait.

The truth was, I didn't want to think about that. How would my mother respond? Would they all resent me by now?

Milie startled me out of these distracting thoughts by nudging my hip with her muzzle. She looked up at me, whining, her eyes then drifting to the small doe just a few yards away, nibbling on the sparse tundra grass. I smiled at her, then stopped walking so I could reach the low-quality hunting bow I had tied to my rucksack. I pulled out an arrow and loaded it, and raised it up to eye-height, pulling the twine back as far as I could, and angling the bow towards the doe's head.

SNAP.

I let the arrow go flying, hoping that it would hit somewhere vital on the deer. It pierced the creature's neck, blood instantly welling up at the wound. I stepped closer as the animal, frenzied in it's movements, grew weaker and weaker from the bloodloss, until falling over completely in a patch of snowberries. I pulled my dagger from my hip, my bow still in my other hand. I tried to do a single, swift cut of the animals neck to end the suffering, slicing through the sinew and nerves and veins.

"Have at it," I murmured, letting Milie start her meal, pulling out some bread and cheese from my bag to snack on. Even though the doe was small, there was still a little bit left after Milie had finished. She sat there licking her bloody lips, her wolfish mouth open wide as if she were smiling blissfully, her tail thumping steadily against the ground.

I smiled, massaging her ears. I swear, this wolf was a better companion than most humans.

As we resumed travel, now with full bellies and happy thoughts, I relaxed a little bit. We were definitely in Stormcloak territory now, the Imperials wouldn't dare to scout this far into enemy land. The Northern winds returned, just as icy and cold as before, if not more so. The cold would only get worse from here, though, as we were getting closer and closer to Windhelm. Just as the sun was starting to approach the horizon again through the clouds, lights came into view ahead. Stone and light.

"Milie," I said, claiming the ice wolf's attention. "I want you to stay out here for the night, okay?"

She seemed to understand, her tail still wagging happily. I hoped she would be able to find me once I was outside the city walls again. She always was astonishingly sharp for a wolf. Not that wolves aren't smart, just that wolves and humans were a different kind of smart.

As we approached Windhelm, fighting the icey wind, I had to let Milie know it was time to part ways, for now.

"Milie, stay. Wait for me, okay?" I told her. She stopped when I stopped, and I told her to sit. "Stay, girl. I'll come back for you, okay?"

She licked her lips, almost as if she understood, but didn't.

Apparently she knew "stay" though, because when I started walking again, she turned back the other way, away from me. I trusted that we would be together again; I would never abandon such a loyal friend. I wondered if she felt the same.

"Welcome, traveller," a guard at the walls greeted me. "Not an imperial spy, I trust?"

I chuckled. "Do I look like one of those milk drinkers? No, I wish to join the Stormcloaks."

The guard seemed to appreciate my jest. "I like that. I wish you well; Ulfric is outside the city right now, but his housecarl, Galmar Stone-Fist, would take your company."

"Thank you," I murmured, stepping through the heavy oak doors that protected Windhelm, waving to the guard as I did. As I took my first steps in the streets, breathing that raw northern air... I felt pride for my Nord heritage.

I didn't waste time, however. I knew the name of the tavern here, and that was all I needed. Candlehearth Hall, home of the amazing perpetually lit candle from the fourth era. I didn't know how much I believed _that_ tale, though...

The smell of mutton and ale guided me through the streets, and sure enough, the tavern was very close by indeed. A few drunken Nords lingered around the enterance, but they gave me no trouble. As long as I wasn't an elf, lizard, or khajiit, I was okay in their book. I'd heard many a tale of the extended racism the Nords of Windhelm treated most with, but rarely did it affect me. I still wasn't comfortable witnessing it, though...

I would have to change that. _Real_ Nords are sharp and trusting of their family, their brothers...

As I stepped inside, a wave of warm air washed over me. I shivered and stomped the snow that encrusted my boots off onto the threshold, and made my way through the crowded inn towards the innkeeper.

"How much for a night?" I asked, pulling out my coin purse.

"10 septims- got a real nice one up 'bove the hearth," she murmured roughly.

"Not looking for comfort, but I guess that's a good price..." I fished the 10 septims out of my purse, handing them to her.

"That's one short, that is."

"No, I definitely handed you 10."

"Look little girl, are you trying to take advantage of me? Just 'cause I'm old?"

I cast her a foul look. If only she knew just how few septims I had to spare for her manipulative nonsense.

"That was 10, Elda." a woman's voice appeared next to me. A shady one, with a hood pulled over her head. I couldn't see her face clearly, but apparently Elda could.

"Oh, a Dunmer... just what Windhelm needs." Elda said sarcastically. "Maybe you should find someplace else, then?"

"No, no, it's just a septim. Here." I handed the septim to foolish Elda, already plotting ways to get back at the thieving wench.

"Thank ye. You're a smart little girl, ain't ye? Good thing, too."

I turned away from the counter, done with stupid old Elda.

"Thanks for trying." I said to the dark elf girl, who seemed not to mind.

"Not at all. She was playing you for money. Too bad she got away with it."

"I'll get her back," I assured the Dunmer girl.

The dark elf smiled. "What's your name, girl?"

"Kashmir. And you?"

"Gabriella. Just don't tell any of the more... judging Nords."

"Of course," I laughed. "I hate to say it, but my kind can definitely be impolite to perfectly welcome strangers."

"Ah, yes. I would know. Say, Kashmir... do you think I could stay in your room tonight? They denied me service, believe it or not."

"Oh! Of course. I don't mind." I smiled slightly. She seemed like a potential friend at this rate. "She said it was up the stairs, I think...I apologize, but it's been a long time since I've touched a bed. I'm probably going to go straight to sleep."

"Fine by me."


End file.
